Slowly, the scene opened up in Berkeley, California. The Berkeley Airport, department 201. Nighttime outside, but inside the complex, bright lights flashed around. People busying themselves, making sure they wouldn't miss their flight. It seemed as if everyone was in a hurry to leave, just to make their lives for the next fourteen hours, a miserable ride against tuberlance, darkness, and the hopeless feeling of entrusting their lives into the hands of equal and small humans like theirselves. People with a special skill that gave them god-like power for as long as they wanted it. And the trust, that they would use the power to the best of everyone involved . . .
Slowly, the scene faded into the complex sitting arrangement. The overhead intercom, telling of each flight due out, and which planes were coming in. The people, sitting around, waiting for their loved ones to return home from an extended trip, while others sat around, saying their goodbyes to their families and friends, awaiting their turn to make the trip. Tears, laughter, exuberant talking . . . the atmosphere of that night.
Quickly, the scene cut back to the hallways. Void of many people. An occasional flight attendent would walk through, checking up on a situation that the head office would report for them to do. But, other than that, void. Void, except for one figure. Pacing slowly, awaiting the announcement. "Flight 13 to Grand Cayman." That would be his signal. The moment when he would depart, and officially join up with the fellow men soon after. That would be the moment, when it would be time for him to proove himself again. Only, to a whole new cast. He was Zero.
Slowly, he came to a stop. Putting his carrying bag down, Zero rested against a wall of the hallway. Rest . . . emotionally tired. A lean against a wall couldn't help it, but it would provide a momentary release before the big plane flight over the Carribean. And, his moment to proove, despite the doubters that he had encountered leading up to it, and the doubters he had had his whole life, that he wouldn't be put down. He wouldn't become yet another "faceless person" amongst the crowd.
Slowly, looking off, as the view came in closer of him, he began to speak.
" Twelve hours. Twelve hours lies ahead for me. Twelve hours, as I will just sit, think, go over, bring up and throw away ideas, leading up to my match in Grand Cayman. Twelve hours, filled shoulder to shoulder with tourists, returning family, and the common breed of what the human life is. But yet, alone. For, even when one is amongst a group, the helpless feeling of isolation weighs high on the shoulders of that individual. That individual . . . me.
Zero
" There will be no encouragement. No one sitting next to me, eager to talk and discuss, wanting to know how I'm feeling. Why would there be? They say past repeats itself in cycles. If so, then nothing will change for me. I'll be alone on the plane trip, fighting my own battles, as loving families laugh and put up good cheer on route to their get away. Their get away from normal life. While I . . . head in on a kamikaze dive straight down to the way everything has been before. The cycle repeats, but things stay the same. "
Gazing off, the isolation burning through in his dark eyes, Zero stared into the oblique halls. Searching, but the feeling wouldn't change. He was about to head off, depart, into a world where he knew he wouldn't fit in, yet again. But, persistence . . . he wouldn't let that knock him back. He would have to show that he wouldn't back down against everything that was upcoming.
" Primetime, taking place in the Grand Cayman. After twelve hours, I will arrive there. And soon after, take my place in the ring of the CSWA. The person they have me pitted against is the one called K-9. Former great of the CSWA, a past member of the Unholy, who makes his return to the CSWA. But, it is a return against me. And I, no matter how unheralded his great return is looked forward to, cannot stand back and let the welcoming committe cut the ribbon in celebration of his return, while he stands around in praise. He has to be the one put before in which I start the ascend. Not the ascending to a title, but to proove that I can show everyone that I won't be put back. I won't be backed down. And for once, to proove that I do mean something in this world, despite what has happened in my past. "
Zero
Gazing off towards the front area, where the people all sit, listening attentively to the flight announcements, Zero sighed. So many people, little children, running towards their parents. Eager faces, as a mother embraced her young child. A father, sitting in a chair with his son, half heartedly watching the television above. More intently, sharing a moment with each other before they depart.
Again, Zero sighed. His past . . .
" Past. K-9 talked about his past during his brief mention of the upcoming match. His father, mother, brother, and his half-brother . . . all bailed on him during the course of his life. His feeling of betrayal, no doubt, at his untimely circumstances. The feeling of hopelessness comes from things like these, but fortunately, they came slowly, with distance bewteen each moment. Not thrown at him suddenly, unexpectantly, without a premable to warn him of it.
Zero
" When I was born, the Douglas family, my father and mother, left me, their child, abandoned. Alone, in Berkeley, California. An Orphanage home took me in, but from there, I was traded from home to home, never fitting in to any of them. Only in the alley, alone, did I fit in.
" Now tell me, which is worse? To slowly have your life crumble around you, or to start out with your life shattered. To have to start out at lower than a normal life. Never to know what it was like to have a family. To always have to struggle, learn from mistakes, and have my errors enforced upon me ten fold by my peers, those who hated me because I was different.
" At least . . . K-9 knew what it was like to once have a family, someone to love. Something . . . that has evaded my life from the very start. "
Looking off, the cold walls of the hallway. Zero put his head down. Alone, the feeling that was stronger than any statements or actions that could be performed. Alone, amongst a crowded group of spectators that could never understand the concept.
" But, despite what has come up against me, what has blocked my paths and avenues, I fought, and will continue to fight back. No one will take advantage of me, and no one will overlook me. Because, soon, they'll be looking up at me, as I quickly ascend past them and their own lives. People might disregard and laugh and look at me different than others in the CSWA, but, using K-9 as the example of what's to come, they'll soon see, and understand, who I am. "
Zero
Suddenly, over the intercom, "Now boarding, Flight 13 to Grand Cayman."
Zero looked up, as his eyes became cloudly, blocking out any emotion that would be evident through his eyes. He had to put up a shield, a barrier of protection, for the twelve hour trip lying ahead for him.
Grabbing his carrying bag, he stood up. Taking a deep breath, he began to walk through the hallway, out into the main waiting area. The boarding area was just up ahead. Soon, in twelve hours, he would be in Grand Cayman, walking the cruiser of the CSWA.
In twelve hours . . . . . . .
midi: "Infected" by Bad Religion
